


Courage in Unlikely Places

by OllyJay



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Blow Job, Case Fic, Established Relationship, F/M, Kink Free, Monogamy, Post-Season/Series 03, implied feeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-30 17:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10881594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllyJay/pseuds/OllyJay
Summary: An unidentified dead man, another who has been badly beaten and now two missing children… he wondered if she was really worth all this trouble.  The smile, that he didn't bother to hide this time, made it clear that the answer was definitely - yes.





	1. The Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh.... I'm drowning in a freezing ocean of beautiful angst! Quick 'Knitting Mother' give me your hand - there's clearly room on this large piece of floating debris for two!!!
> 
> _Disclaimer: The following fic has been certified 100% angst-free by Hopeless Romantics Inc (a division of Why Can't Everyone Always Be Happy International), therefore any feelings of angst produced during it's consumption are entirely the responsibility of the reader and in no way reflect the intentions of the writer._
> 
> ❤️❤️❤️

_... Mother was clever, if she told you something you knew it was right..._

So when the man came towards them with the heavy stick held high - he stepped in front pushing the others further down the alley. The stick came down and it hurt. More swings of the stick - a strange sound and his arm didn't work anymore.

_... there were two things that mother said but he wasn't sure which was most important..._

A warning screamed from behind him. The stick coming for his head – he raised his one good arm as protection and shut his eyes. When he opened them again he couldn't see right.

_... mother said you had to look after..._

Another hit, more pain, he stumbled.

_... he couldn't let the little ones be hurt, mother said they were precious..._

He struck out hard with his fist, sending the man flying back against the wall.

_... No. More. Hitting. Mother said hitting was bad. He hoped she wouldn't be too angry..._

Falling to his knees on the rough ground he could feel warmth flowing down his face and a strange taste in his mouth. "Go," he mumbled. Gentle hands guided him to lie on the ground. A whisper not to worry - they had a safe place. Soft lips on his forehead. "Go," he repeated as he slipped into darkness.


	2. Trouble Comes Calling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also my title is a misquote of the incomparable JRR Tolkien  
>  _'Courage is found in unlikely places.'_ Gildor to Frodo as the hobbits begin their journey from the Shire. The Fellowship of the Ring.

"Jack!" she strode into his office without knocking, immediately taking up her normal seat on his desk.

He raised an eyebrow. He had left her asleep at Wardlow only an hour ago, now she was wide awake, immaculately presented and there was surely no way she could have found trouble already.

"Aunt P needs our help..."

Or maybe he was underestimating the extent of her talent.

"... one of her dearest friends has just called and her son has been arrested for murder."

Yes, clearly he would need to reassess her amazing aptitude for finding herself at the centre of things. "He's not here." Jack had already received the briefing on who had availed themselves of the stations accomodations over night and there had been no mention of murder.

"Bother. Can you call around? The longer he's in custody the worse things may become," she jumped off his desk clearly agitated.

He looked at her puzzled, she was the last person to be sympathetic to a murderer. He wondered briefly if this was an 'old friend’, but no, even then murder was a step too far.

"The thought of someone like cousin Arthur in a cell..."

Jack sprung up, heading to his door. "Carlisle, I need you to start ringing the stations, we're looking for a suspect arrested yesterday," he stepped aside to allow Phryne to walk by.

"Jonathan Rhodes," she said.

"Yes Ma'am," the young constable said without batting an eyelid, though new to the job he was a quick learner and you didn't question Miss Fisher if you wanted to stay on the right side of the Inspector.

Jack grabbed his hat and coat as Phryne carried on speaking to the new constable. "We'll be interviewing Mrs Estella Rhodes at her home if you need the Inspector," she glanced back to Jack, "Shall we take mine?"

He didn't even acknowledge her as he caught the keys that his constable threw to him

Carlisle wondered why she always asked that because, to the best of his knowledge, the Inspector had never even been in her car. The wink she threw him behind his superiors back made him blush and she laughed, whether at him or the Inspector, he wasn't sure.

Even after he lost sight of them he could still hear hear the echo of her laughter and smell the last trace of her perfume. Elbows on the counter he let his head rest in his hands, he had never even dreamed that women like her actually existed, it was like she had walked out of a movie screen.

"And, Carlisle…"

Bugger. He quickly reached for the phone, knocking the handset off just as the Inspector stepped back through the door from the street.

Jack took one look at the boy's flustered face and shook his head in sympathy. Phryne tended to leave a trail of men behind her with the same dazed look as Carlisle currently wore. "If you want to impress Miss Fisher start making those calls and take Collins with you to bring him back here. I would also suggest you get Doctor MacMillan to take a look at him."

"Yes, sir."

"This man means a lot to Miss Fisher so - if you want her to keep winking at you," the lad went even redder, "I suggest you make him as comfortable and happy as you can." Jack was smiling as he walked back out the door - he just didn't let it show on his face. He liked his new constable, the boy had initiative.


	3. Promises Made

"Phryne, bless you for coming so quickly my dear." Mrs Rhodes was of an age with Prudence Stanley but, as she opened the heavy front door, she seemed decidedly frail and unsteady on her feet. "Inspector Robinson, I'm so sorry to impose but I was at my wits end and Prudence was adamant you would help."

Jack carefully kept the grimace from his face, there were many things about Mrs Stanley that he admired but she had formed the opinion that his relationship with her niece meant he was at her beck and call. In this case though he was grateful for the early call up, guilty or not, he had no desire to have someone like Arthur left languishing in a police cell. Taking the seat indicated he waited for Phryne to settle herself beside him, closest to the her Aunt’s friend. He looked at the woman, though clearly exhausted she had a strong grip on her emotions - only a life time of maintaining the expected standards of decorum endowed that level of self control. To help her he slipped into his most professional mode. "Mrs Rhodes, can you tell us when you last saw your son?"

"Yesterday morning,” she said and when he took out his notebook beginning to take notes, she continued, “He spends two days a week at a private care establishment at the end of Little Collins Street, by Parliament House.” She glanced at Phryne and said in a slightly defense tone, “It’s very progressive. He likes it there, they keep him entertained and he has friends - as you can see I don’t get around much anymore.” When Phryne nodded her understanding she looked relieved. “He walks to the end of our road, catches the eight o'clock tram which stops right across from the building. At around four o'clock he does the journey in reverse."

Jack noted that the man was physically able and far more independent than Arthur. He glanced around the room, it was large, filled with items of taste and quality but undeniably dated. Above the elaborate Italian marble fireplace there was a family portrait of proud - though slightly older than normal parents - with a beautiful toddler. The Steinway in the corner was smothered with family photos, though the most recent would be more than thirty years old. There was a wedding photo but the one that caught his eye was of a distinguished looking officer on horseback - Victorian Mounted Rifles if Jack recalled the Boer War heroes of his youth correctly. He suspected that she had been a widow for a very long time. Raising a child like her son would not be easy on your own, no matter how wealthy you were.

"When he didn't come home I rung and they told me he had left at the normal time but of course they have no idea if he had made it to the tram. I rung the police but..."

Jack nodded, they would be reluctant to treat a grown man as a missing person after such a short time. He imagined she must have been frantic with worry, here alone in her big empty house. He wished she had thought to ring Mrs Stanley last night - appraised of the situation he would have sent Carlisle out to find her son immediately. It was obvious the worry and sleepless night had not done her health any good.

"This morning I got a call from a very rude policeman who told me that Johnny had been arrested..." she stuttered, her disbelief obvious "…that he had killed someone in an alley behind the Hay Market." Phryne glanced at Jack, the Market was just a short walk down Little Collins Street. He managed the barest of nods before Mrs Rhodes turned to him, “Inspector, it must be a terrible mistake, he's such a sweet boy."

It was interesting, he reflected, how often the mothers of men who had committed the most heinous of crimes still saw them as the sweet babe they had dandled on their knees. In his experience a mother’s love was one of the strongest things known to man – in fact it was damn near unbreakable.

"And then I thought to ring Prudence and she immediately contacted dear Phryne." She leaned forward to grasp Phryne's hand and turned pleading eyes to Jack, "Please Inspector, can you take me to him? He will be terrified."

"I've got two of my men tracking him down now. They'll bring him to my station, where Doctor Macmillan will look after him till I can get you to him."

Phryne looked at him in surprise, when had he arranged that? He must have gone back in to talk to Carlisle after she had driven away. A warm appreciation for the innate kindness of the man ran through her as she gently squeezed the small, delicate hand that held hers. “Tell us everything the policeman said to you this morning.”

When the worried mother had finished relaying what little she remembered Jack stood, looking every inch the gallant Victorian gent of her youth. "Mrs Rhodes, may I escort you to the station? And perhaps we can speak more about your son?" he extended his arm to allow her to grasp it as she rose slowly to her feet. He walked her carefully to the door, helping her into her coat whilst Phryne made sure the house was locked up. Once he had her settled into the police car he walked Phryne to hers, "You're heading to the crime scene?"

"Of course."

"I'll try to find some witnesses and speak to the arresting officers. If you need me I'll be at the station or the Constable on the front desk will know where I've gone."

She caught his hand, "You'll come to Wardlow tonight?"

He nodded, leaning in close to whisper into her ear, voice low, sending shivers down her spine. "Yes. And when I get there I'm going to fuck you so hard it will be at least noon before you turn up at the station tomorrow," he pulled back, continuing in his normal voice, "so I’ll have at least a fighting chance of clearing some of the actual jobs on my desk."

Enjoying the rush of desire his words had produced, she watched him walk back to his car.


	4. Doctor in the House

Mac's head shot up when Jack came through the door. Leaning against the front desk in a herringbone tweed blazer with her fedora at it’s normal jaunty angle, she had been passing the time rather pleasantly relating tales of horror from the morgue to the child dressed in a police uniform. Carlisle looked decidedly unwell. Recognising that the frail woman clinging to Jack's arm must be the suspect’s mother she straightened up, immediately every inch the professional medical examiner. "Mrs Rhodes? Your son is resting in the interview room. I've made him comfortable but you'll find he's a bit disorientated. Apart from a broken arm he'll be fine, it's not as bad as it looks."

Jack raised his eyebrows in silent enquiry.

"Forearm fracture."

"Has he said anything?" Jack was rifling one handed through the arrest file Carlisle had just given him. He was relieved to find no mention of resisting arrest – because the injury Mr Rhodes had suffered was commonly associated with defending yourself from a truncheon. The notes merely described how the man had been found bleeding and unconscious in an alleyway not far from a body crumpled against a brick wall.

Looking at Mrs Rhodes, Mac said, "He kept asking about the little ones."

"He means children." 

Jack looked up. "There's no mention of children in the file." He turned to Mac, "Can I take Mrs Rhodes to see her son?"

She nodded, "He’s in the interview room. I must head off, I’ve got someone waiting for me." 

Jack knew she meant she was going to do the victim’s autopsy. He nodded farewell and guided Mrs Rhodes towards the interview room where he found that Carlisle had pushed the table and chairs to the side to set up a cot. Jack was impressed, he'd been worried he'd find the man in a cell.

"Mother?" Johnny's voice was weak and he was clearly sedated.

Jack frowned, the Doctor would have known it was important for him to interview the suspect as soon as possible and that in his current state anything he said would be highly unreliable. Something told him his condition had been much worse than she had been prepared to reveal in front of his mother. He looked at the two of them, the small woman now sitting on the cot cradling the head and upper body of the grown man, rocking him back and forth as he sobbed. Jack wondered briefly what would happen to the man when she passed away.

"I knew you would find me."

"Of course my dearest, I'll always find you," she told him, stroking his hair and encouraging him to sit up beside her on the cot. "Johnny, do you remember Arthur's cousin Phryne?" When she got a small though bewildered nod, she gestured at Jack, "This is Phryne's friend, Jack."

There was bruising visible on his face that indicated to Jack that whoever had wielded the weapon had not received police training on how to incapacitate a suspect with a truncheon, this was more about beating the hell out of someone. Jack held out his hand to shake Johnny's, remembered about the fracture at last minute and smoothly changed the motion to a pat on the shoulder. He pulled a chair up to sit facing them. "Well Mr Rhodes, you seem to have got yourself into a bit of a scrape, can you tell us what happened yesterday?" 

He looked at his mother, who nodded her encouragement at him, "I was walking Mary and Joe home when the man started to chase us."

A glance at Mrs Rhodes told Jack that she had no idea who he was talking about. “Had you seen this man before?”

He shook his head, “But he scared Mary.”

“Do you know where Mary is now?”

He shook his head again. Then he began shake. His mother did her best to calm him but in the end threw a look of apology at Jack.

It was clear he wasn’t going to get any further at the moment, his presence was not helping and he had absolutely no desire to hear a confession. He indicated to Mrs Rhodes that he would give them some time alone. Shutting the interview room door he walked, deep in thought, to his office. An unidentified dead man, one who had been badly beaten and now two missing children… he wondered if she was really worth all this trouble. The smile, that he didn't bother to hide this time, made it clear that the answer was definitely - yes.


	5. Meet You at the Morgue

The heels striking the hard floor were getting closer, Mac counted to five and then looked at the door. It swung open to reveal a resplendent Phryne, always a beautiful woman, since London there was an air of contentment and happiness about her that made her even more alluring. Not that Mac would tell her that. "One powerful punch to the head which threw him into a wall cracking the back of his skull for good measure, hard to tell which killed him but they were fairly instantaneous anyway. Your Mr Rhodes is a very strong man," Mac noted. "The Inspector should be here any minute..."

"Doctor. Miss Fisher." He walked in exactly on cue.

Mac repeated herself as she cleaned her implements, surreptitiously watching them. Standing together on the opposite side of the body to her, they were talking about the crime scene Phryne had just left. As always the atmosphere around them crackled with the obvious attraction between them, she stood scandalously close and he ignored her, but didn't move away. She made barely appropriate innuendos, he rolled his eyes. 

"Sorry Inspector, what was that?" Mac didn't bother to pretend she had been listening.

"Given the state of Mr Rhodes I'm surprised that there is so little evidence of a struggle."

"His injuries were all defensive as he tried to protect his head, apart from the graze to his left hand where he punched the deceased." She indicated where his fist had connected with the right cheek bone of the body on the table.

"Anything to suggest that there were more than the two of them there?" he asked.

Mac shook her head again.

Phryne was intrigued, "You think there was someone else there?"

"Mr Rhodes spoke of two children. I got the impression he was protecting them from this man."

Phryne looked worried, "Perhaps this man wasn't acting alone and the children were taken by his colleague?"

He shook his head, "No, he only mentioned one man."

"When I was treating him at the station this fell out of his button hole," Mac started to shuffle through her pockets before holding out a bedraggled sprig of rosemary.

Phryne’s eyes widened, "Oh, how intriguing. In the language of flowers that means ‘remember’," she turned to Jack, "A message perhaps from the children?'

He shrugged, "Or perhaps he just picked it because he liked the smell?" Leaning across the body he held open an evidence bag for Mac who placed it carefully inside, "I'll ask once he's slightly less sedated."

"Yes, sorry about that Inspector, but he was highly agitated when I arrived, even though Collins and that ridiculously young constable of yours were doing everything they could to help him," she tilted her head in thought, "he didn't have the same reaction to me, which could be due to my motherly nature... but is more likely to be because I wasn't wearing a uniform."

He added that point to the list of things to discuss with Mrs Rhodes. 

"Are you planning to hold him overnight, Jack?" Phryne asked.

"No,” he looked at Mac, “looks like self defence to me,” she nodded, “I'll go back and sort out the paperwork to get him released into his mothers care. Do you think she'll be alright with him?"

"I'll get Bert and Cec to stay with them."

"Good, right I need to go, there's paperwork to be done and I have a big night ahead," he said as he turned and walked out.

Mac looked after him, "What is he up to tonight then?" one glance at Phryne's face told her more than she needed to know, "Really? You two are insufferable."


	6. Missing the Obvious

Carlisle was collating pictures of lost children and day dreaming about Miss Fisher. In fact he could recall her perfume so vividly it was amazing. A terrible suspicion forming, he looked up slowly only to find her leaning on the counter staring at him, an amused look on her face. He went bright red, it was almost as if she knew what he had just been thinking. Bloody hell - he really hoped she didn't.

"Is the Inspector interviewing Mr Rhodes again?”

He managed a nod.

“Would you like me to take those to him?" she asked sweetly.

Carlisle swallowed hard; she was wild and exciting, intelligent and creative, she was many glorious things but sweet? He felt nervous. "Thank you, Miss... if you could... " he stammered.

"You're very conscientious, he likes that," she said gathering the images, careless of the order he had placed them in. Catching the pained look on his face she glanced down realising what she had done. "Don't worry I'll let him know I'm to blame," she winked, "I like it when he tells me off."

The way she licked her lips before she walked away filled his head with rather unwanted images of exactly how the Inspector might choose to reprimand her. He swallowed, picked up the first piece of paper to hand and did his best impression of an effective and efficient police officer.

Smiling, Phryne walked into the interview room placing the pictures on the table in front of Jack. Johnny and his mother were on the opposite side of the table to him and there was a chair for her at the end. "My goodness Johnny, what a handsome man you've grown into," she said warmly as she took her seat. “Do you remember me?”

"Yes,” he gave her a wide grin, “you're Arthur’s favourite cousin Phryne. And Jack's friend." 

Jack picked up the images, "Mr Rhodes, can you tell me whether any of these are Mary?" He placed them one by one in front of him. When they were all down Johnny rummaged through, carefully considering each one. Finally he shook his head. Jack frowned in disappointment, maybe he would have more luck with the boy.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Johnny said helpfully, "These are my friends Mary and Joe." He held out a photograph. 

Phryne could tell immediately Jack was annoyed with himself for failing to ask the obvious earlier. A question that he asked routinely but hadn't this time because Johnny was different. He really was too hard on himself she thought as she stepped in to to give him a moment to gather his thoughts. Leaning across she exclaimed, "Oh, what wonderful friends they must be Johnny." She handed the photograph quickly to Jack.

Johnny nodded. "They are my very best friends - Mary is almost as clever as you, Mother," he said proudly.

Jack looked at the image of a young woman in her early twenties but small, fair and delicate. No wonder he described her as a little one, and in her arms was a dark haired toddler. He passed it to Mrs Rhodes who shook her head, she had never seen them before. Standing he said, "Thank you Mr Rhodes, I'll get the paperwork sorted so you can go home." 

Mrs Rhodes looked at him gratefully. 

Phryne followed him out the door.

Jack stopped halfway down the corridor, leaned with his back against the wall and waited for her to come to a stop opposite him. "When he gets home and settled can you try to get more details about Mary? Not only is she an important witness for his defence but I’d like to make sure she’s safe - I have a feeling it may be her our dead man was actually after. Leave a message with Carlisle if I'm not here. Collins and I will concentrate on identifying our mystery victim." 

She nodded, "Of course, Inspector," returning to the interview room, at the last second she stopped to blow him a kiss.

"Until later, Miss Fisher," he promised, pushing himself off the wall and heading to his office.


	7. Promises Broken

Jack glanced at his watch, bugger - there was no way he was going to make it to Wardlow this evening. His heart clenched a little at the thought of letting her down but he could only hope that she would understand. A small voice at the back of his mind pointed out that that approach had not proven entirely successful in the past. He chose to ignore it – she was different. He looked back at the pile of arrest reports in front of him. 

“Sir!” 

Relieved to have his internal monologue interrupted, Jack looked across to Carlisle who was waving a document in the air. 

“I’ve found something, about the truncheon. Sir,” the lad said excitedly.

One of the older men that Jack had recently ‘inherited’ snorted, “Well, we didn’t think you’d won the lottery, boy”

Jack scowled at him, “We’ll all be equally excited Davis, the day you do something useful.” He’d be damned if he’d let a cynic destroy the boy’s enthusiasm, also he had a secret suspicion that Davis wore cravats outside work hours. He looked like that kind of man. 

Jack walked over to see what Carlisle had discovered. Not all truncheons were created equal and Doctor Macmillan, having researched extensively, had provided a detailed description of the weapon used on Mr Rhodes. It was fairly unusual and definitely not Australian police issue which also explained why someone had gone to the effort of retrieving it from the crime scene. Jack had had his men reading through arrest files looking for any mention of either the weapon or the distinctive injuries it inflicted. And Carlisle had just found the pot of gold.

Jack glanced at his watch, he still wasn’t going to make it to Wardlow this evening. That small voice at the back of his mind whispered he was about to find out how different she was.

*****  
"It’s the Inspector, Miss Fisher," Mr Butlers voice echoed up the stairwell.

She glanced at the clock, just before eight o'clock, this did not bode well for her evenings planned entertainment. She skipped down the stairs and took the phone, with a smile, from Mr Butler.

"Jack!" she said, in that way only she could.

"I'm sorry Phryne, but I'm not going to make it tonight we've got a lead on our mystery victim."

"Oh,” the disappointment in her voice was clear but then she continued in her normal tone, “ Never mind, there'll be other nights and Johnny is the priority."

There was silence from the other end of the line for a while and then, "Thank you.” Phryne had a suspicion she had missed something but when he continued he sounded completely normal. “Carlisle gave me your message that Mr Rhodes believed Mary had a safe place to go to. I just wish we knew where it was."

"We’ll find her, Jack,” she said. “First thing tomorrow I'll check on Johnny and then come in to the station."

"Until tomorrow then."

She smiled, "Till tomorrow. 

She put down the phone. "Mr Butler, slight change of plan, the Inspector won't be joining me this evening. I think I'll have something quick to eat in an hour or so, and then head out."

"Of course, Miss Fisher."


	8. Shall We Dance?

Phryne saw him as soon as he walked in the club and she leaned back into the shadows, trying to work out why he was here. When her escort started to talk, she didn't bother to keep the exasperated look off her face. Really he was becoming quite a nuisance. She had made it quite clear when she invited him to join her, that dancing was the only thing on the menu. Reluctantly she took her eyes off Jack to glare at the gorgeous man in front of her, "I've told you already, I’m here to dance and if that’s not enough for you - feel free to leave." It was perhaps a little harsh but there was only so many times you could hint politely.

She turned back to where she had last seen Jack. Damn it, he was gone. As she searched for him a warm hand was placed on her shoulder. For goodness sake! No one touched her like that unless they had an express invitation to do so. She turned, angry at the liberty taken, "Get your filthy hand off... " and found herself looking into familiar blue eyes. "Jack! What brings you here?"

"Our dead man was a bouncer here so we're interviewing the staff, care to join me?" Like her, he ignored the man beside her.

"Well, hang on a minute, Phryne... " her companion started, giving up when she stood to take the man's proffered arm, obviously uninterested in anything but him. He watched them walk away, heads close as they spoke to each other and now she was gazing up at him. He wondered what type of man you had to be to have the Honourable Phryne Fisher look at you like that.

*****

"I was rather hoping you would come find me," she teased.

"Were you lost? I didn't realise."

"Aren't you teeniest bit curious about my date for the evening?"

"Given you just walked away without saying goodbye I assume he isn't important." 

She laughed gaily, "No, you're right - and," she moved in close, "he wasn't even that good a dancer. Please say you'll come back with me tonight once we've finished here."

"Will you make it worth my while? Will you feed me?"

"Jack Robinson! You should know by now there's nothing I won't do to get you in my bed," she spotted Hugh, "Come on, the sooner we get this out of the way, the sooner I can... feed you."

*****  
Having requisitioned the Manager's office Jack settled in to watch her charm the bouncers and barman, knowing she would get more out of them than either he or Collins. 

He'd seen her dive back into the shadows when he walked in and, when he saw the handsome man beside her, he'd been worried. But the way she'd tracked his movement, the anger on her face when the man had distracted her, followed by the devastation on his at whatever she had said in reply... all this told him she was just here to dance. He'd taken advantage of the distraction to slip out of view, enjoying her frustration as she searched for him in the crowd. 

The last bouncer was still talking, whether it was relevant to the case was a different story, Collins was taking notes and asking the occasional question. Jack, finding himself surplus to requirements, began to consider the extraordinary woman he had found himself involved with. He was in love with her of course, had been almost the whole time he'd known her and lately... well he knew she admired his investigative skills, valued his friendship, desired his body. He'd never ask for her fidelity though - because he wasn't sure what he would do if she refused. He wasn’t particularly proud of that piece of cowardice.

"Wake up, Jack," she stood, smiling at him as the bouncer finally left the room.

"I was never asleep, Miss Fisher," he stretched, "Collins, please tell me that was the last one?"

"He was, sir," Collins politely hid his yawn behind a now closed notebook.

"Good, lets call it quits and resume tomorrow morning. We know our dead man is a thug for hire, the alleged murderer is in the custody of the red raggers and wherever they are, Mary and Joe are safe." He stood, holding out his arm, "May I offer you a lift home, Miss Fisher?"


	9. The Bet

She started her assault as soon as they got into the car, shuffling across the bench seat, turning to press her breast into his side. One hand toyed with the short hair at the back of his neck, the other began undoing his jacket buttons. "It wasn't fair to get me all worked up this morning and then abandon me to my own devices," she murmured, "If I'd danced till dawn it wouldn't have satisfied me, even if I could have found a better dance partner."

He studiously avoided looking at her as he started the car. "I am hardly responsible for the quality, or lack there of, of your dance partners." The man she had been with had been by far the best looking one in the club and Jack had no allusions as to the 'dancing' experience and abilities of a man like that, so any lack of spark was entirely down to her.

She ran her tongue from just below his shirt collar up into his hairline behind his ear, sending an exquisite shiver through his body, "It is very much your fault, because you've played me a tune so sweet I can't hear anyone else."

His breath caught and he hoped she thought it was because of the way her fingers, having undone his waistcoat, had grazed across his nipple rather than the surge of hope her words had given him. He reached up to gently pull her hands off his body, ignoring her protests, "I need to drive." As she straightened herself, grumbling, he released one of her hands but guided the other to his erection, "And I can't do that while you're leaning all over me," he finished as he pulled smoothly away from the kerb.

"You have either a high opinion of your self-control or a low opinion of my abilities," she chuckled at him as she traced the shape of him through his trousers.

"Feel free to prove me wrong on either count," he challenged her.

"And if I win?"

"I'll do anything you want tonight."

"And if you win?"

"We'll have hot milk and go to sleep. After you’ve fed me, of course."

Her delighted laughter was the most satisfying thing he had achieved that day. 

It was a ten minute drive to Wardlow. Two minutes in he swung the car into a dark space around the side of an abandoned warehouse. "Bloody hell, Phryne! That’s not fair," he managed, finding just enough presence of mind to turn off the headlamps and motor before running his fingers through her hair, as she released him from her mouth long enough to grin up at him. 

He closed his eyes and let his head roll back, focusing on the glorious wet warmth of her mouth and tongue, and trying hard not to push her head down or thrust his hips up. 

She eased her hand under his thigh to encourage him to thrust up, then when he took up the rythm she placed her hand over one of his above her head and pushed down. 

He threw all thoughts of restraint out the window.

To her there was nothing more arousing than when he lost control like this and she gathered up her dress desperate to find her own release. She had thought that excitement only came from variety but he had taught her that it also came from denial and eventual, inevitable surrender and she knew she was addicted to his particular brand of desire. The way he teased and taunted her was a revelation. There were a dozen different ways he could have driven to Wardlow tonight but he had chosen the darkest, most secluded route and accordingly she had waited until they were nearly in the residential area, until it was almost too late and he must have thought his plan had failed, before finally giving him what she had known he wanted all along.

His erratic movements and meaningless groans made her increase the movement of her fingers between her legs and she moaned her appreciation around him. She felt one of his hands move from her head to rest on her arm and she knew he was enjoying the image of her touching herself, that it was increasing his pleasure. And that thought was damn well increasing hers she acknowledged as she climaxed. Before she had recovered, her mouth was filled with the taste of him.

He helped her up then leaned across to rest his forehead against hers, eyes closed, still panting slightly.

"Food, hot milk and sleep?" she suggested.

"Oh God, yes please."

"Then drive Inspector, I'm a very gracious winner so I'm prepared to hold off on claiming my prize until a more mutually beneficial time."

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it in an old fashioned courtly manner - right up to the point where he sucked her fingers one by one into his mouth. Her breath caught at his audacity, knowing his mouth would now be full of the taste of her and she could not help but desperately want him again. He restarted the car and headed to Wardlow.


	10. The Briefing

She'd been across to check Johnny and was now reporting for duty, as promised. She was swinging the hamper full of delicious food Mr Butler had prepared, humming happily as she walked through the station door. The warning look on Carlisle's face nearly bought her to a stand still but she managed to hold it together, and as she headed to his door, she knew what she would find.

Rosie was sitting in her place on his desk. Really the woman had no manners! She did her best to keep the irritation off her face as she made herself comfortable in the visitors chair, putting the basket down on the desk rather more loudly than necessary. Jack looked like he'd prefer to be anywhere else in the world and she knew that he was secretly hoping that his phone would ring, or Carlisle would need him urgently. His obvious discomfort was enough to bring a genuine smile back to her face.

The ladies greeted each other in their normal reserved fashion and Rosie had the good grace to get off his desk. This only increased Jacks discomfort as he didn't know whether he should give her his seat or not. It annoyed Phryne to see that Rosie was as attuned to his dilemma as she was, when she said, "No, its okay Jack, I need to head off anyway." She placed her hand on his arm and looked into his eyes, "Thank you, I knew talking it through with you would help me make a decision."

Phryne couldn't help but feel, if she hadn't been here, there might also have been a kiss. Nothing passionate of course, he would never allow that, just the chaste peck on the cheek of old lovers. The sort of kiss that Phryne would have given to a man in front of Jack without any hesitation but the thought of him receiving such a kiss? Oh, she knew she was a hypocrite but the reality was she had never been ‘in’ love with any of the men who might have kissed her like that. He, on the other hand... this was the woman that he had loved enough to marry. A woman who knew the beauty of his body and mind, who had shared his first sweet dreams and helped to make him the incredible lover that he was. Under any other circumstances she would have liked Rosie, she was a strong, capable woman who treated everyone, including her ex-husband's lover, with respect. But the image of Rosie and Jack entwined, making love, giving each other pleasure? Her blood boiled and she wanted nothing more than to throw him across the desk right now and claim him as hers.

"Good bye, Miss Fisher."

Phryne nodded politely and smiled sweetly.

When Rosie had left Jack continued to watch her, trying to gauge her mood. He looked at the hamper, when things were complicated the way forward was to concentrate on the obvious. He cleared his throat and gave her a meaningful look, his eyes darting to the basket, "She didn't bring food, she never brings food."

Phryne, smiling like the cat that got the cream, proceeded to unpack the contents of the basket before taking her customary seat on his desk. She held a fully laden fork out to him invitingly. He kept his eyes on her as he leaned forward, mouth open…

***** 

"Right, where are we up to?" Jack looked at Hugh, "Lets start with the victim."

Hugh opened his notebook, "Mr George Wright, age thirty five. Until his death he was muscle for hire and a bouncer at a number of clubs, including the one we found you at Miss Fisher. No one we spoke to had heard of a Mary or Joe, they all thought he lived alone. We have his last known address."

Jack glanced at Phryne. Smiling she took the hint and began to speak. "Alleged murderer, Mr Jonathan Rhodes, age thirty-ish, last seen happily playing poker for matches with Albert and Cecil at his mothers at ten o'clock this morning. He told me Mary undertakes domestic tasks at the care establishment he visits on an irregular basis and that she is particularly partial to green gum drops. Unfortunately he does not know her address or any family details. He is also unable to explain why Wright attacked them, other than the obvious - that he was a bad man."

Jack nodded, "Collins. Carlisle. You go to Wrights last known address, speak to the neighbours, the local shopkeepers - anyone who might have seen Mary. Maybe she's his daughter, sister, wife or lover? And see if you can find someone who is willing to identify the body. I'm going to start visiting Churches and other people who offer refuge to the unfortunate." He turned to Phryne, " Do you want to try her place of work?" 

He smiled when she stood and threw him a salute as smart as anything he'd seen in the army, "Yes, sir!"

"At ease, Captain Fisher," and then as an after thought, "Did Mr Rhodes say anything about the rosemary?"

"No, do you think its important?"

He shrugged, "Its unusual, lets all keep an eye out for it."


	11. Under Doctor's Orders

Carlisle looked up at him hopefully when Jack walked through the door, he shook his head, "Anything from Miss Fisher?"

"No sir, but Dr Macmillan would like you to call, urgently."

He ducked into his office to make the call and thirty seconds later came striding back out, "I'll be at the morgue."

*****

Phryne had spoken to all of the staff, including the Manager, at the private care establishment. Mary was well liked, considered hard working and pleasant. No one knew anything about her having a child or a husband but she had only been working there for a month. She did however have an address, and it was not the same as Wright’s. She briefly thought of heading back to the station to check in with Carlisle but the house was on the way so it made sense to go there first.

*****

Jack ran into the morgue breathless, "Where is she?"

"I'm fine Jack, just a headache..."

"And a rather fine lump on the back of the head," Mac finished for her, "you'll need to make sure someone watches her overnight in case she's concussed."

He moved to stand beside her, doing a visual check, there was dirt on her knees and gloves - no doubt from when she had fallen. Turning to Mac, seeking her professional opinion, "Any idea what she was hit with?"

"Yes, actually. The same truncheon used on Mr Rhodes. Fortunately it was only a glancing blow."

He looked at Phryne, "Did you see or hear anything?"

"No, the house was empty, so I wandered around the back hoping for an open window…"

He groaned, he knew exactly what that meant.

"…fortunately I found a broken one and was just about to let myself in when - wham!"

"How did you get back here?"

"I'm not really sure but as the Hispano is outside I guess I drove."

"Oh God," the thought of a semi-conscious Phryne loose on the roads was terrifying, "Doctor, can I take her home?"

"Yes, but, " she turned to speak to her friend, "you have had a very serious blow to the head, no driving, no investigating and no sleeping on your own tonight."

Phryne grinned at Jack, "Did you hear that? You have to stay tonight too – Doctor’s orders - that's three nights in a row. Really, you may as well move in."

He stared at her, "I'm fairly sure that isn't what the Doctor meant."

Mac smiled at her friend, "Actually, I think that's a marvelous idea, Inspector."

When Jack shot the Doctor a look of pure disbelief at her betrayal, she shrugged, whistling as she left the room.


	12. Break and Enter

As he drove Jack was thinking - hard. If nothing else, Phryne’s adventure confirmed his impression that Mary was the target. Someone was watching the house. But why? And where was Mary?

"What are we doing?"

"Hmm? Oh, going back to the house," he said absentmindedly, questions still churning through his brain.

"Really? But Mac said no investigating."

He gave her his full attention, "Well Miss Fisher, I could take you back to Wardlow, tuck you up in bed and tell your household that you were not to leave, but we both know as soon as I walked out you'd be up demanding to be driven here. So I thought we may as well just go together and get it over with."

Phryne laughed.

When they got to the house they headed to the back. Jack put his arm through the broken pane to release the lock and pull the window open, "Incredibly handy this being the only broken window in the building," he observed. "Do you think you can wait here quietly for a moment whilst I unlock the back door? Or are you likely to break more windows?"

She just grinned at him, admiring his form as he climbed through the window, he really was rather handy at a break in. When she heard the door unlock she walked in. The house was dark and clearly no one had been living there for some time. It was not the sort of house a domestic servant was likely to be living in so was almost certainly a false address. It was disappointing.

Jack obviously agreed as he followed her into the parlour, "Someone was watching the house, whether for Mary or some other reason I'm not sure but instead they found you skulking around."

She was incensed, "I have never skulked in my life."

"Snooping then."

She sniffed at him, opening a drawer and rifling through its contents, "Maguiness. Richard and Ida Maguiness," she read from one of the documents, "Why don't you make yourself useful and see if you can find any photos - or is snooping below you Inspector?"

He threw her a mischievous smile, "I can snoop with the best of them, Miss Fisher," he winked at her, "and frequently do," before wandering off to execute her command.

She watched him go, she hadn't been joking about him moving in but could sense his reluctance. There was no doubt some well thought out, perfectly logical reason it wasn't a good idea to live together. The man could be so infuriating. It didn't matter though, she'd wear him down eventually. She opened a very formal looking envelope, "Jack! I've found a birth certificate for a Rosemary Maguiness."

He appeared at the door, photo in hand, "And I've just found this," holding it out to her.

She took it, the young girl in the family photo was clearly Mary. "Back to the station then?"

"No. It’s Wardlow for you. I'm not brave enough to completely ignore Dr Macmillan," he held a carpet bag open for her, "there's some more photos in here, put in the documents and maybe Mrs Collins can go through them? I'll arrange for the house to be searched and Carlisle can do some digging in records. What happened to you today confirms my suspicion that Mary is in danger, we need to find her, before someone else does."

There was companionable silence as he drove back to Wardlow, each mulling over what they had found but when he pulled up outside her house he hesitated. He desperately wanted to ask her to promise she wouldn't go out again, that she'd stay home and look after herself but he knew to her ears that sounded like him being over protective which often drove her to do the exact opposite. So, fighting every atom in his body, he simply got out of the car and walked her up to the door.

Before she went in, she placed her hand on his chest, "I'll be here Jack, with Dot, if you need me."

He started to worry then that the head injury was more serious than the Doctor had let on.


	13. Knock, Knock

"Richard and Ida Maguiness both deceased, car accident five years ago," Jack read aloud. "The house and estate are in trust for Rosemary, known as Mary, until she attains the age of twenty one. Which she did two days ago," he raised his eyebrows at this, "Last known residence is that of her uncle and guardian under the will, fathers younger brother. Right. I'll get Carlisle to bring him in tomorrow." He raised his eyes to Dot, "Mrs Collins, my compliments on your excellent report writing skills."

Dot blushed becomingly.

Looking beyond her shoulder into the darkened room he asked, "How is she?"

"Asleep, Inspector. Doctor Macmillan was happy when she called in to check an hour ago."

He nodded his thanks and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

*****

Phryne tried to snuggle deeper into the blankets but they wouldn't move, swearing she reached out to work out what they were stuck on. Her hand hit a shoulder encased in a wool suit, "Jack?" she said more than half asleep, "Why didn't you get in bed?"

"I meant to, I must have fallen asleep," he muttered rubbing his shoulder.

"Have I worn you out old man?"

"Clearly," he replied as he struggled out of his clothes and under the covers, "try to go a bit easier on me in future?"

She snuggled into him with a contented sigh, "I'll do my best but you're so damn gorgeous I can't help myself," she yawned before falling back to sleep.

*****

Uncharacteristically she joined him for breakfast the next morning. As they ate toast and drank tea she asked about his plans for the day.

"I'm meeting Collins at the Maguiness house, whoever is looking for Mary was expecting her to go back there so perhaps she already has. He's organising a door knock around the neighbourhood with pictures of Mary to see if anyone recalls seeing her. After that Mary's uncle is coming in to be interviewed."

"Would you like company?"

He raised his eyebrows, "I wouldn't say no."

"Give me a moment, I need to have a quick chat with Mr Butler then I'll meet you out front," she said.

When she slipped into the police car beside him Jack looked surprised, "Have you not got the Hispano?"

"Oh yes, Mac dropped it off last night. I'd just prefer to travel with you today." The wide smile on her face suggested she was up to something and apparently very pleased about it. "I was thinking someone may have seen the man who attacked me yesterday. And we should ask everyone to be on the look out for rosemary as well, just in case."

*****

As they followed the uniformed officers out from Collins' briefing Jack asked, "Where would you like to start the door knocking?"

"Lets head around the block. There’s only a small wooden fence between the properties so, if you were in the right place, you could see everything going on in your neighbours back yard.

They had no luck at the first three houses and there was no one home at the fourth door they approached. It was a pleasant little bungalow with immaculate gardens. The shiny red door seemed cheerful and welcoming, the net curtains crisp, indicating that the inside would be as well cared for as the exterior. 

"Interesting," noted Phryne as she came back from her survey of the back yard, her arms behind her back, "the impression I get is of an elderly couple but there is a small child’s toy by the back door."

"A visiting grandchild perhaps?"

"Maybe, but there is an excellent view of the Maguiness residence and," she put her hand up in triumph, "a rather large and well tended rosemary hedge," she smiled sweetly as she placed the sprig in Jacks button hole.

"That's the sort of coincidence that requires further discussion," he said, writing a message on the back of his card and pushing it under the door. He glanced at his watch, "Come on you have an interview to conduct."

She took his arm and together they strolled back to the car.


	14. The Interrogation

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Mr Maguiness?" Phryne asked her voice full of mock concern.

Jack sat back, he had thoroughly enjoyed the last ten minutes. Maguiness had turned out to be an unhelpful bigoted fool. Initially he had refused to respond to Phryne’s questions, always directing his answers to Jack. Jack had retaliated by averting his eyes and taking no part in the interview. Forced to interact with Phryne, Maguiness had become belligerant. And standing above him she had proceeded to systematically destroy him.

The man dropped his head to his hands. "You shouldn't even be here? You're not a police officer," he accused her.

"Miss Fisher is here at my invitation," Jack's voice was calm and measured.

"Why? What sort of man needs a woman to do his job?" unsurprisingly Maguiness turned on the man who was witness to his humiliation.

"There are many things that Miss Fisher excels at and dealing with men who have superiority complexes is one of them," Jack shot forward, suddenly looking very dangerous, and Phryne's heart skipped a beat, "I tend to lose patience with men like you very quickly and things do not end well," he sat back, throwing Phryne an apologetic look for the interruption.

"Where is she, Maguiness? What have you done with Rosemary?" Phryne loomed over the man.

"Oh for Gods sake! I don't know where the stupid cow has gone. She ran away months ago and I haven't seen her since."

"What about Joe?" she asked.

Maguiness stared at her, clearly confused "Who's Joe? Is that who she ran away with? How did she meet him? We never let her out of our sight."

Phryne exchanged a glance with Jack, clearly there was nothing more to be gained so she spun round and walked out of the room. "Carlisle," she called as she came down the hallway. "I think the Inspector might need you to take Mr Maguiness away," she paused, "it might be best if you get in there sooner rather than later," then, as he hesitated to leave the front desk unattended. "I'll mind the station for you."

"Thank you, Miss Fisher," he said gratefully, practically running down to the interview room. It took a lot for the Inspector to lose his temper but when he did it was never a pretty sight.

Phryne stood behind the front desk contemplating the story of Mary's life. Losing her loving parents only to be held a virtual prisoner by her legal guardian for who knows what purpose? And with no hope of rescue because who even knew she existed? And so, with limited resources and no obvious assistance at hand, it appears she had simply decided to rescue herself - Phryne couldn’t wait to meet her.

The station door opened and she looked up to find a nattily dressed elderly gentleman stepping smartly towards the counter.

He stared at her, tilting his head in contemplation, "It has been many years since I have attended a police station but I was unaware that we were now recruiting police women," bright blue eyes crinkled and a mischievous smile played on his lips, "I think it a vast improvement."

She smiled back at him, gallant old men were one of her favourite things. "I'm even better when I'm wearing my uniform."

"I'm sure you are," he nodded, "Now - I have a tale to tell, are you in a position to hear it? Or must I talk to one of those dreary fellows?" he asked, looking at Carlisle and Jack talking at the end of the hallway.

She leaned forward whispering in a confidential manner, "There's nothing dreary about the Inspector."

He nodded approvingly, "Clever women should always find handsome policemen to fall in love with. Does he know?"

She shook her head, laughing, the man was an absolute delight, “Not yet.”

“You mustn't leave it too long to tell him, my dear.” He held out his hand and when she took it he walked them confidently into The Inspector's office, positioning Phryne in Jack's chair before taking the visitors one for himself.

Jack walked in, surprised to find they had company, "I'm...

"... Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, yes I know, it's very helpfully written on your door. Your Constable," he smiled warmly at Phryne, "showed me in."

"It's Captain," she winked, "Phryne Fisher."

"Of course," he apologised, "without the stripes of your uniform to guide me..." he dipped his head, spreading his arms wide in an approximation of a bow.

Jack tried hard to stifle his amusement at the flushed pleasure that appeared on Phryne's face, "Was there a reason for your visit, other than to distract my officers, Mr...?"

"Forgive me, Inspector. My name is Rollins. My sister and I find ourselves with a house guest in need of more assistance than we can provide. I determined therefore to seek help today only to find, on returning from our morning stroll, that help was already looking for us," he stared meaningfully at Phryne.

"Is it a young lady by the name of Mary and does she have a child with her?" she asked sitting forward.

His eyes twinkled, "The moment I set eyes on you I knew that my troubles were over."

Jack felt a correction was required, "Mr Rollins, Miss Fisher’s appearance generally heralds the start, not the end, of trouble," though he couldn't quite keep the the fondness from his voice, "Now, I have a dead man, an injured one and, until quite recently two missing people, so I would be grateful for any information you can provide."

"Of course Inspector, if you and your Captain will accompany me back to my residence Mary will explain."

Jack nodded.

"We have met before you know," Mr Rollins said conversationally to Phryne, "though I don't expect you were in any condition to recall me"

She looked at him closely, his was surely a face she would recall.

"I saw you break the window at the Maguiness house and was able to distract a rather unpleasant man who was attempting to break your head,' he told her. "You gave me your car keys and asked to be driven to the morgue. I pointed out that the injury was not quite as dire as that but you were determined that a 'mack' was required for your headache as the Inspector," he glanced at Jack, "was going to yell when he found out what you had done. I escorted you to the morgue door, you took the keys and went in. I could hear that the woman inside knew you so, as my assistance was clearly no longer required, I retired from the field."

"I simply cannot remember any of that, but thank you. It appears you make a habit of rescuing damsels in distress."

"Yes, it is an old habit that I seem unable to break." Standing he held his arm out once again, "So tell me, how loud did the Inspector yell?"

As he followed them out of the room Jack was struck by the thought he should know the man.


	15. Domestic Affairs

Unsurprisingly, they found themselves back at the immaculate bungalow with the shiny red door where an elderly woman ushered them into the parlour.

"Miss Maguiness, I'm relieved to find you and Joe in such safe hands," Jack looked out of place, as he perched on the edge of a delicate and highly chintzed chair in an overwhelmingly feminine room. 

"I am so sorry Inspector, for being the cause of all this fuss," the girl was quietly spoken but the way she angled her chin hinted at inner strength. 

He glanced at Phryne, as expected she had already fallen in love with the girl, he suppressed a sigh. "Your circumstances were less than ideal. We have spoken to your uncle..."

"He's no family of mine," she said vehemently. 

Jack waited patiently.

"He kept me prisoner, demanding I marry his disgusting god son. They wanted to get hold of the money that was coming to me when I turned twenty one,” she snorted in disgust, “Well I was not going to let that happen, that money was my escape route from their beastly control. So, I pretended that I had given in and they began to be more lax, until one evening they forgot to lock my room. And then I ran."

As Mary continued her tale Phryne was watching the child. Steady on his feet he seemed extremely interested in the strangers in his space. Crouching in front of a small pile of coloured wooden blocks he considered them with a degree of seriousness she found highly amusing. He looked up and then back to the blocks before deliberately laying them out, obviously in search of one particular treasure. He grinned when he found it, clutching it tightly in his chubby hand. Standing he looked uncertainly at the object of his curiosity and then back to the block. She could almost hear his thought, would the block be accepted as a token of friendship? She looked at the block, it was azure blue, three times as long as it was wide and half an inch deep. It was, she considered, a good block. He must have decided it was too, because stepping towards the chair he held it out, the gesture reinforced by a definitive, "Ta."

Jack looked down at the child, regarded the offering, nodded and said, "Thank you," as he took it. The child, delighted by this success scurried back to the blocks, clearly intent on finding another that would inspire further interactions.

Holding the block, which looked ridiculously small in his hands, Jack gestured at the child.

"She’s dead," Mary replied solemnly. "She found me curled up in a door way the night I got away and took me home with her. I'd look after Joe whilst she..." she looked at the child, happily burrowing through his blocks.

Jack nodded, "What happened?"

"One night she came home battered and bruised. I wanted to take her to the hospital but she could tell it was over, said to save the money. She told me to take Joe and run, before the man she worked for turned up."

The child came back with another offering, this time a square block that was the bright green of spring grass. Phryne nodded in approval, another wise choice. The outcome this time was more than the child had hoped for. Without breaking his conversation or removing his eyes from Mary, Jack picked him up and put him in his lap, exchanging the blue block for the green. Happy, the child snuggled into his new friend, blue block in one hand, the thumb of his other in his mouth.

"She thought he would look to you to make up the lost income?" Jack asked.

Mary nodded, "And so I ran again."

"And you remembered your childhood neighbours?"

She smiled at the elderly couple, "Yes."

The child had his ear pressed against Jack's chest and Phryne knew how reassuring his calm, even breathing could be, and that the rumble of his speech was hypnotic. All this combined with the way he was stroking the child's back, she was not surprised at the small murmurs of contentment she could hear.

"But this man, he wasn't going to let you go that easy?"

"No. And I must have left something in her rooms because that man found me. He must have been watching the house and followed me to work. Miss Rollins had brought Joe to see Johnny as she often did. And then, when poor brave Johnny offered to walk me home, he ended up paying a terrible price," she dropped her eyes ashamed.

"I imagine it's a price he would happily pay twice over to keep you and this young man safe," Jack assured her, looking down at the child in his arms.

A short while later, all details gathered Jack placed Joe in Mary’s waiting arms, smiling at the obvious affection that had grown between the two of them. Though it was unlikely that the child would remember his actual mother he would certainly never lack a mother’s love, if Jack was any judge of character. 

When they got up to leave Mr Rollins walked them to the door. “I have something for you, Inspector.”

Jack watched as he produced the truncheon from a locked cabinet.

“He dropped it when I disturbed the attack on the Captain.” Mr Rollins slapped the truncheon lightly against his hand, “It’s a horrible thing, Robinson. I suspect you recognise it as well as I do.” He held it out.

Jack stared it but made no movement to take it. Eventually, with a glance of concern at him, Phryne reached over and took it. She turned it slowly in her hands noting the German insignia. “Someone’s idea of a war souvenir?”

Rollins nodded. “It’s a German trench club. In close quarter fighting it is far more useful than a gun. It would originally have had a iron mace at the end, though fortunately that part is missing otherwise I’m afraid yourself and Mr Rhodes would have been much more badly injured.” 

Phryne shivered, she had seen evidence of the damage this type of thing could do and something told her that it hadn't always been inflicted during hand to hand combat.

Jack roused himself, forcing his eyes away from the weapon, “Why didn’t you come straight to the police? When Phryne was attacked?”

“I wasn’t sure who the Captain was. Unless things have changed significantly it’s not standard police practice to break and enter,” he pointed out reasonably. “I needed to find out how she was involved, in case it placed Mary in any further danger.” He turned to Phryne, “I’m sorry my dear but I searched through your bag to find your name when I took you to the morgue. When you visited yesterday morning we were at the Post Office confirming your identity.”

Jack raised his eyebrows but did not speak, leaving it to Phryne to do their farewells. As he walked down the path she could see him reassert his self-control, pushing whatever memories the truncheon had uncovered firmly back into his past. She would respect his decision not to share that part of himself. 

As they reached the police car he said, "I’ve just remembered who your knight in shining armour is." He held the car door open for her. "What will you give me if I tell you?"

She looked at him intrigued, "Your own key to Wardlow," she offered, sliding past him into the car.

He spluttered and looked uncomfortable, "That’s a little bit more than I was expecting," he admitted, "I'm not sure my information is worth quite that much."

She smiled at him, "Think of it as both back pay and a down payment for services yet to be rendered. And, from an entirely selfish perspective, it will be so much more convenient for me to have you at hand."

"Hmm," he said as he closed her door before walking around to the drivers seat. As he got in he continued, "I'll tell you without the need for payment." Concentrating on starting the car he completely missed the look of disappointment that crossed her face. "He used to be a Chief Inspector in Sydney, in charge of investigations into organised crime. His wife was kidnapped and killed as a warning when he got too close on a case. It was a big mistake on the part of the criminal fraternity because he spent the rest of his long career relentlessly seeking vengeance. I'm guessing he retired up here for the anonymity. No doubt he still has contacts who were able to advise who you were."

"Oh," she thought back to Mr Rollins' words to her at the station, "that poor man. I can't ima..." the full implications of what she was about to say stopped her. That was not something she wanted to think about. Instead she changed the topic, "Shall we go tell Johnny that Mary and Joe are safe?"

"Maybe I can drop you off to share the good news? I need to track down the man who hired those thugs and have a chat about his recruitment techniques. And I want the name of the one who struck you. I also have to find out what happened to Joe's mother."

Phryne could see that for him this was just the start of another crusade and strangely she found she didn't have the strength for it. Plus, she was beginning to worry that there might be more to his reluctance to move in with her than she had originally thought. 

His hand found hers, "Phryne? Are you okay?"

She did something then that she almost never did, she lied. "Sorry, I have a slight headache." What, she wondered, was wrong with her? She felt ridiculously emotional, perhaps it was something to do with the bang to her head or the reminder of how fleeting their time together could be? There were many good reasons for his decision not to move in with her, his position in Society not least amongst them, it didn’t mean he wasn’t committed to their relationship. It’s just that… having decided she wanted to be with him, in typical Phryne fashion she wanted all of him. And it was clear he was running himself ragged running between the two households. And really, from the moment he had let her into his investigations everyone assumed they were sleeping together anyway – so his reputation was already shot.

"Will you let me take you home to rest? I'll tell everyone the good news and then come round this evening to update you." 

"I think that might be best," she said turning to look out the window so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.


	16. Debts honoured

When he returned to Wardlow that evening Phryne was in the parlour, sitting in the armchair with her legs drawn up, an open book resting in her lap. She looked reflective and sad, and he had finally realised he was the cause of it. He sat on the settee, reaching out to pour himself a whiskey. 

She refused his offer to refill her glass instead looking at him enquiringly.

"Mr Rhodes was excited about his mother meeting Mary and Joe tomorrow. She asked my opinion of Mary, whether she might be capable of assisting with the care of Mr Rhodes. I told her Mary struck me as an exceptionally capable and sensible young woman."

Phryne nodded, how like Jack to tie up all the loose ends.

"Collins and I visited a particularly unsavoury character this afternoon, shared some insights on freedom of choice and I don't foresee any further issues from that angle. Carlisle and Collins have gone to pick up the thug you ran into, I think I’ll let the lad do the interview –,” Jack looked amused, “- he seems strangely invested in the case. Also I have some leads to follow up in respect of Joe’s mother."

"And the charges against Johnny?"

"Mrs Rhodes has asked whether you can accompany them to see the lawyer, tomorrow. Given Mary's version of events and Wright’s criminal history hopefully he'll never face a murder charge."

"Of course, I'll call her first thing tomorrow."

"I also discovered the reason for Mr Rhodes aversion to uniforms."

"Oh?"

"It appears the tram conductor on their local route has a rather unpleasant manner. I'll have a word with him first thing tomorrow, suggest he adopts a sunnier disposition in future." 

They sat in companionable silence as he finished his drink and placed it on the table. He kept his eyes on the empty glass. "Its late."

She nodded.

He raised his eyes to look directly at her, "It’s been a busy few days."

She nodded again.

"Are you going to make me go home?"

Her smile was slow but genuine, "Never."

He dropped his eyes slightly, "There was talk of a key.' He looked shyly at her from beneath his lashes.

She reached into her pocket and produced a shiny new set of keys.

"I'll pick up some clothes tomorrow," he said as he reached across to take them from her.

"Mr Butler has laundered your suit and the other clothes you left this morning. He's put them in your drawers and wardrobe."

He pulled back in surprise, almost dropping the keys, "I have furniture?"

"Yes, and the spare room across from ours is your study, there's a desk in there, as well as shelves for your files and books." She moved across to sit beside him.

He blinked at her, this morning it had definitely looked like a conventional bedroom. Sometimes she moved so quickly he couldn't keep up. But then it wasn’t a competition, and even if it was, there didn’t seem to be a losing side as far as he could see. He put his arm around her, drawing her into his side and nuzzling into her hair, "I recall I lost a bet. Would you consider this to be... a mutually beneficial time?"

"I would," she agreed, "and… I seem to recall a promise regarding my ability to get up the next day."

He chuckled, "I had a feeling that might come back to haunt me. Tell me – what would you like me to do first?"


	17. Epilogue

At exactly one minute past noon the following day she walked into his office. He stifled a laugh, "Miss Fisher."

"Inspector." She made herself comfortable on his desk, "I have just come from the solicitor, I thought you might appreciate an update."

He reached for her hand, entwining it in his. "And that couldn't wait," he gazed at her intently, "until I saw you," he was almost too scared to breathe, "at home, tonight?" 

Her smile was dazzling. "No, I couldn't wait until you came home, Jack," she confirmed.

And he had never felt more foolishly happy than he did right then.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reading a fic many of you will be familiar with called ‘Between the Shadow and the Soul’ by LadyRoxie. This beautifully written, though sometimes harrowing, fic has two characters I particularly enjoyed - Habiba and her cousin Faheem. Normal people who put themselves at risk in order to help someone else. And this idea of the courage of ordinary people was the prompt for this fic. 
> 
> I simply adore this image of these two 'unsung heroes' quietly leaving when their work is done...  
>  _Habiba and Faheem walked through the foyer until they became two silhouettes against the brightness of the day, then disappeared. – Chapter 9, Between the Shadow and the Soul, LadyRoxie._


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